by Tully, Alex
Things were starting to make a little more sense now. Lorene could definitely see Mrs. Stewart telling Trevor to keep his distance. He was from Westwood after all.
Lorene tried to offer her best advice, “Sometimes people just make rash decisions. I can tell you one thing. If it’s meant to be, he’ll come back to you Bea. Don’t you go chasing after him.”
Bea cracked a weak smile and Lorene figured that was probably the best she was going to get. She took a skillet out of the cupboard and placed it on the stove, “Now what would you like for dinner?”
***
Trevor didn’t like Thursdays. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, instead of first period study hall, he had gym. He wasn’t athletic in the first place and who in the hell wanted to run around at seven-thirty in the morning? He also had his sessions with Dr. Fisher on Thursdays. And this Thursday in particular really sucked because he had just broken things off with Bea.
He purposely called her mid-morning, hoping she was in class and he would get her voicemail. It worked, and he was able to leave her a really lame message without having to talk to her.
Trevor tossed his books in his locker and stuffed his sweatshirt into his backpack. He headed toward the exit when he heard Mrs. Dixon behind him, “Trevor, can I see you for a second?”
Mrs. Dixon was one of the high school guidance counselors and a major pain in his ass. Trevor turned around and waited for her to catch up. She hobbled down the hall waving a yellow paper in her hand. “Just a minute!”
This was the last thing he needed. He sighed, “I’ve already told you, I’m done talking to the guidance counselors.”
“Oh, it’s not about that.” She needed to lose some weight in a bad way, and now she was almost out of breath. “The SAT scores are in and you scored the highest in the school. Let me show you.” She pointed to the yellow paper, “Let’s see here…” she scanned the paper with her chubby finger, “Here! Here is your score. That’s good enough for most Ivy League schools Trevor. Congratulations!”
“Thanks.” He thought he had done well. No real surprise there. School had always been pretty easy for him. Good skin and a high IQ—two things he guessed he had his parents to thank for. Two very important things he realized, but pretty much the only things.
He turned and headed to the door. Mrs. Dixon yelled after him, “Well Trevor, have you thought about college anymore? With your grades and these scores, you could probably get some kind of scholarship!”
He just kept walking to the door.
***
The Beaumont Mental Health Center, a.k.a. the Crazy Kids Center was recently voted the number two facility in the country for pediatric mental health. Trevor only knew this because there were billboards all over the place proudly stating the fact.
The building itself was pretty cool. It rose about ten stories high and was constructed mostly of glass. The front entrance opened into a large two-story atrium, and had a very modern feel.
An enormous fish tank stood in the middle of the atrium. It was cylindrical in shape and surrounded by high cushioned seating. Trevor loved the aquarium. It was filled with the most fantastic sea creatures: clown fish, anemones, starfish, crabs and even an octopus. He had come to his last four sessions early just so he could sit in front of it and watch. It was mesmerizing.
He took a seat on one of the benches and gazed into the glass. He was looking for the octopus. He nicknamed her Betty but he had no idea why. She hid in the rocks a lot, and today was no exception. He was concentrating his efforts on locating Betty when he heard a woman laugh. He looked up to see Dr. Fisher.
She was on the other side of the atrium, talking to another doctor. He was an older guy, looking very professional in his white coat and well-groomed silver hair. They were standing close together—a little too close in Trevor’s opinion, to be just colleagues.
Dr. Fisher actually looked like she was blushing. Her body language said she was really into this guy. It was a side of her he had never seen before and Trevor found it pretty amusing.
After a little more conversation, the man put his hand on Dr. Fisher’s shoulder and then turned to leave. That’s when Trevor noticed the wedding ring on the guy’s finger. Oh man, was this her husband?
But he didn’t think Dr. Fisher was married—at least she didn’t wear a ring. He had checked that out in their first session. And if it wasn’t her husband, then she could be flirting with a married man! Tsk, tsk, Dr. Fisher.
Trevor watched her walk over to the elevators and go in. He looked at his watch—3:58. He would wait a couple of minutes and then head up to her office.
He was smiling to himself. He wasn’t in the greatest mood today, but maybe he could have some fun with Dr. Fisher. At least he had some material to work with if things got uncomfortable. After the last session, he started doubting whether the Home Depot gift cards were really worth it.
He knocked and she immediately opened the office door. “Hello Trevor, come on in,” she motioned her hand toward the chair. No blushing smiles here—all business.
He sat down and she took her position in the chair across from him, her notepad at the ready. “So how are you doing today Trevor?”
“Okay, how are you?”
“I’m fine thank you. We started talking about your mother last time—“
“Are you married Dr. Fisher?” he interrupted.
Trevor could see the surprise in her eyes. She hesitated for a second, “Why do you ask?”
“It’s a pretty common question. I was just curious.”
She shifted slightly in her seat, “No, I’m not married.” And then she quickly asked, “So do you want to start where we left off?”
He ignored her, “I have another question. Are you a real doctor?”
Her face immediately showed a hint of annoyance, “What do you mean by real?”
“Well, I just wondered if you were an M.D., you know an actual psychiatrist, or if you were one of those psychologists with a PhD who like to call themselves doctors.” Trevor already knew the answer.
She narrowed her eyes at him and he didn’t look away. She pointed to the array of diplomas and awards on the wall behind her. “I have a doctorate degree in psychology and therefore I can be addressed as doctor.”
Trevor liked keeping the focus on her. He sat forward in his chair so he could see her reaction better, “See, I think that’s bullshit. A doctor is someone who goes to medical school, who works in a hospital, who can prescribe meds—that’s a doctor.”
She put her pad of paper on the table next to her and folded her hands in her lap. “Well, you are entitled to your opinion, but I can recommend medication to the general practitioner if I think it should be prescribed.”
“So in other words, you have to get the okay from the real doctor first,” he said smugly. He knew he was being a jack-ass, but he was having fun.
She was actually starting to look a little ticked off. “Please address me as Sarah. No need to call me Dr. Fisher if you feel that way.” Then, with a tight-lipped smile on her face, she asked, “So Trevor, have you thought at all about what you’d like to do when you graduate?”
He leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed in front of him. “Actually I have. I think I want to be a garbage man when I grow up.”
Dr. Fisher didn’t show it on her face, but he knew what she was thinking. “Really, and why is that?”
“Umm…cause I like garbage? What do you mean, why? If I said I wanted to be a quote—doctor,” he motioned italics in the air for emphasis, “you wouldn’t ask why. You would say ‘Oh that’s wonderful Trevor’.”
“Actually I would ask the exact same question. I don’t care what you choose as an occupation. I’m more interested in why you choose it.”
Trevor liked the tit-for-tat with Dr. Fisher. “That’s what you say now, but you know damn well you would look down on someone wanting to be a garbage man.”
“Not true,” she said simply. She was a tough one to rattle.
Trevor was on a roll and he could see he was finally getting to her. She started tapping her pen methodically on her notepad.
He wasn’t sure why he felt the need to push her buttons, but he didn’t want to stop. This was so much more entertaining than answering her boring questions. The more he talked about her, the less he had to talk about himself.
“Trevor, let’s talk about you. Have you thought at all—?”
He wouldn’t let her finish. “You know what? I bet you go for older men—I bet you like them gray! Maybe even married, like the guy in the lobby? You know, your own little sugar daddy?”
That was it. She looked pissed. “Trevor, I don’t know where all of this is coming from, but I think we should just end the session here. I’m not in the mood to sit here and be insulted. Let’s just say we call it a day, okay?” She got up from her chair and walked to the door.
Mission accomplished. “So we’re done here?” he asked.
She sighed, “Yes, Trevor we’re done.” She held the door open for him.
He expected to feel relief at those words, but for some strange reason, he found himself feeling a little bit disappointed.
He shrugged his shoulders, got up, and walked out the door.
CHAPTER 16
The last three weeks had been uneventful ones for Trevor. Junior year of high school was officially finished and summer had begun. Things had pretty much gone back to normal—well maybe not normal, but uncomplicated at least.
Bea never tried to get in touch with him after he left the voicemail, which was kind of disappointing. He knew he needed to leave her alone, but he still missed her and wondered what she was up to. Did she hang out at the beach? The pool? Did she wear a bikini?
She was probably royally pissed at him. He felt bad about ending things the way he did, but he couldn’t tell her face-to-face that it was over. He didn’t have the guts. She would want to know why, and he didn’t know what the hell to say.
Evelyn Stewart was a problem—or as he liked to call her—Evil Lyn. She had actually called Trevor a couple of times and left crazy messages about needing to talk to him. She must’ve gotten his number from Bea’s phone.
That lady had serious issues. She always sounded half-drunk and he had no interest in hearing anything she had to say. He just wanted to forget that night ever happened.
He stayed busy working in the Box. He had picked up some valuable things at the old lady’s house Frank had told him about. An old generator and a pretty decent lawnmower were two things he fixed up and gave to Uncle Gary. Hopefully, that would keep the fat-ass off his back for a while.
He had also stopped going to his appointments with Dr. Fisher at the Crazy Kids Center. He couldn’t deal with that either. Down deep he felt bad about the things he had said to her. Making her sound like a gold-digger, when she had obviously worked very hard for her career, was pretty low. And he knew Mr.T wasn’t happy about it. But Trevor told him he needed a break. Maybe he would go back some day, but not now.
Today was the Regional Environmental Fair for all of the Cleveland area high schools. Trevor had been working on a presentation for Westwood High on garbage recycling. Specifically he had put together a display on how many household items thrown out in the trash could actually be donated and fixed. He had photographs of many of the projects he had done in the Box.
The fair was being held at the convention center downtown. He had asked Mr.T to go with him. Trevor had a lot to carry, including one of those big tri-fold display boards. Trying to take all that stuff on the bus was going to be a pain in the ass. Mr.T was happy to help. He said he had been feeling much better since his trip to the hospital and would like to get out of the house for a change of scenery.
They walked into the main hall of the convention center and were immediately hit with the clamoring of hundreds of excited high school students. The huge room was filled with rows of long tables draped in white. Students were setting up their displays, some very elaborate, some very simple. Trevor figured his display would definitely fall on the simple side.
Some local businesses actually gave out cash prizes for things like “The Most Creative” and “The Most Feasible” exhibits. There were only two rules: the idea had to have a direct impact on the environment in a positive way. And of course, the materials used in the exhibit should be environmentally friendly. Trevor didn’t really care about the prizes. He just loved to see all of the different ideas. Although, he guessed it could be pretty impressive on a college application to win something at the environmental fair.
“Wow, this is kind of crazy,” Trevor said as he surveyed the room.
“Do you know where your school is?” Mr.T asked.
“Yeah, I have this map of the exhibit floor. According to this, Westwood High is towards the Northwest corner. That way.” He pointed over to the corner opposite the entrance.
They walked through the myriad of tables and projects strewn all over the floor. Finally they came to a table with a simple white curtain behind it and a small sign that read “Westwood High” in black letters. Trevor was the only person representing his school. No one else had shown any interest in attending the fair. He guessed that spending a summer afternoon raising awareness for the environmental plight of the planet, wasn’t on the high list for most students at Westwood.
Trevor and Mr.T began setting up the display for his exhibit “Trash is Treasure.” His tri-fold display board was like a miniature version of his photo wall in the Box. Pictures of his ‘before and after’s covered the board, with captions underneath showing details of when the items were restored.
Pulling open a large brown bag, Trevor began taking out small items he was able to fix up: a lamp from the seventies, an antique mirror, and an oscillating fan. He wanted to show the variety of items he found.
“When does this shindig officially start?” Mr.T asked.
“Actually I think one o’clock is when the judges come in and then it opens to the public at—.” Trevor stopped in mid-sentence.
“What is it?”
She was there. One row in front of his, but at the opposite end of the convention center, stood Bea. She was standing behind a booth with a giant planet earth hanging above it.
“It’s Bea,” said Trevor. He couldn’t stop staring at her. She hadn’t seen him; he was sure of it.
Just then, a tall blond guy dressed in khakis and a navy jacket walked over to Bea and stood next to her. Didn’t Bea go to an all-girl’s school?
As soon as Trevor finished the thought, Blondie was putting his arm around her and whispering something in her ear. She was laughing. A strange feeling was creeping over Trevor and he didn’t like it. “What the…?”
Mr.T chimed in, “Oh yes, I see her now…”
“You know what? I’m gonna go say ‘hi’…yeah, I’ll be back in a minute.” Without thinking, Trevor quickly walked over to Bea’s table, never taking his eyes off her. He didn’t want to lose his nerve.
He was only a couple of steps away when she looked up and saw him. Her eyes got wide and she immediately stopped smiling.
“Hi Bea.”
Crossing her arms in front of her, she met his eyes with an intense stare. No response.
Shit, what was he thinking? Too late now…
He stumbled on his words, “I, uh…I didn’t know you would be at the fair.” Real smooth.
She waved her hand toward Blondie. “This is Kevin, my boyfriend. Kevin, this is an old friend of mine, Trevor.” She made the introduction with a phony smile.
Her words stung and Trevor felt his face getting hot. His eyelid started twitching. He couldn’t believe it—was this guy really her boyfriend? And why di
d that bother him so much? He looked at Bea, trying to figure out what to say next.
“I’m sorry, did you say Ken? Like Ken and Barbie?” He couldn’t hide his anger. “That’s cute. How long has Ken here been your boyfriend?”
Blondie spoke up with a hint of fear in his voice, “It’s Kevin, and we just met two weeks ago. Honest.”
Bea leaned over the table and said, “You know what Trevor? It’s none of your business. We’re not friends anymore. You blew me off, remember?” She turned to Kevin, “I’ll be back later.”
As Bea walked away from the booth, Trevor frantically tried to think of something to say, but she was gone before he could.
Trevor and Kevin were left standing there staring at each other. Kevin just shrugged his shoulders, “Sorry, man.”
“Yea whatever.” Trevor walked back to his booth feeling frustrated and defeated.
CHAPTER 17
Trevor was definitely upset; the kid was quiet for the rest of the fair. His enthusiasm seemed to disappear and it wasn’t hard to figure out why. Tom caught him looking over at the girl’s booth several times, but she didn’t seem fazed by their earlier meeting. She was laughing and carrying on with another boy. Tom was sure it was eating Trevor up inside. Ah, young love…
During the drive home Tom tried to cheer the kid up. He told Trevor an embarrassing story about a recent visit to his cardiologist. At his last check-up Tom asked the doctor if it would be safe for him to take Viagra. After all, he and Carol had been spending a lot of time together and who knows what could happen. And he wasn’t a spring chicken anymore, that was for sure. He might need some help in that department.
“And guess what he said?” Tom looked over at Trevor who simply stared straight ahead. “He said it was too risky now. I was so ticked off.”
Tom was determined to get a reaction out of the kid, “Well, the doctor could see my disappointment, so he told me a good joke to cheer me up. You want to hear it?”
